


falling on my head like a new emotion

by song_of_staying



Series: because you're mine [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Collars, Cunnilingus, Exhibitionism, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, Ironic Housewife Routine, Mind Games, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-10 11:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12298242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/song_of_staying/pseuds/song_of_staying
Summary: Captain Mindfang acquires a present for her human slave.





	falling on my head like a new emotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [May](https://archiveofourown.org/users/May/gifts).



Mindfang stops before her cabin and takes off her boots. Lalonde hates it when she gets mud on the carpet. It’s safe to keep the boots outside anyway. No-one on Mindfang’s crew would _dream_ of touching them! They all prefer to keep away from her part of the ship.

Lalonde smiles up at her. Mindfang doesn’t make her kneel, so she doesn’t. She is embroidering something she hasn’t shown to Mindfang yet.

“Did you miss me?” Mindfang asks it very casually. She skims the surface of Lalonde’s thoughts, finds only smug satisfaction.

“I missed you tremendously,” Lalonde says, and sort of purrs. “It’s so lonely in here. I never left the room, just as you commanded.”

“Good. You are so good. A good - one.” A good pet, but is there any need to say that?

“Thank you.” Lalonde bows her head. She licks her lips, an invitation Mindfang loves receiving.

“I got you something,” Mindfang blurts out, after a short but excellent kiss. “I know you want to go out and see the moonlight, so now you can.”

The collar is expensive, delicate. Mindfang had considered leaving the last letter off of Lalonde’s name. It’s so close to being a real name! But she decided she doesn’t want Lalonde to have a real name. It’s no use pretending she’s a troll when she’s not. She is fine just like this, and her name’s as pretty and gentle as she is.

Lalonde takes the collar carefully, and Mindfang can feel her delight.

“It’s _pink_ ,” Lalonde says. “My favorite color!”

“I know it is,” Mindfang nods. In truth, there might be trouble over it: a royal color on a cobalt’s property might seem like a challenge to some. But anyone who sees it as a challenge is more than welcome to do try and something about it.

“Thank you, Mistress. You’re very kind.” It’s true! She is the kindest. “Does it have both our names, or only yours?”

“Both. You can’t read?”

“Not Alternian. I wish I could, but there was very little time after we learned of your empire. I never got to do the necessary research.”

Mindfang hesitates only for a moment. “I can teach you. If you ask very nicely.”

Lalonde imagines Mindfang in a narrow street, standing next to a large golden bird. Both figures are singing a song about the power of learning and imagination.

It is so disturbing that Mindfang counters with an image of herself skewering the abominable bird, and striking a victorious pose over its corpse. Lalonde laughs.

“Your human idols are perverse, and I will hear no more of them,” Mindfang commands.

“Of course, Mistress.”

The next image Lalonde offers is herself, sitting at a small table, dressed in a buttoned shirt and skirt, her hair parted into two braids. Mindfang herself is standing in front of her, unbuttoned, and brandishing a rod at a vertical green board. Mindfang’s skirt is short black leather, a style she might have considered wearing as a wiggler.

“Much better,” Mindfang says. “Is that a human general?”

“Yes. She’ll teach that human ensign the art of love and basic literacy.”

“I like that,” Mindfang offered. Her own general had been a snob, unconcerned with anything but results. Part of why she left training early! “But you know I don’t have the patience for anything like that.”

“So, what do you suggest, Mistress?: Briefly, Lalonde shows an image of the ensign wrestling away the general’s disciplinary rod. Her grin is really beautiful tonight.

“I can make you learn it.” Mindfang shrugs. “I don’t do it much, but I can leave knowledge in your mind, just as I can obtain it.”

“That’s _amazing_.” Lalonde lunges forward, stops just short of a kiss. She never initiates those. But Mindfang almost never makes her beg for them.

“Is this you asking nicely?”

Lalonde grabs her hand, kisses that. Then she stands up and pulls Mindfang toward the door.

“May I see the moon now?” she asks, and the answer is obvious. Mindfang collars her, admires the composition of colors for a moment, then leads the way out.

There are a few of the ship's crew members still milling about on the deck. So slow! A sharp word, and they all scatter. They might have seen Lalonde’s naked form, but, like the boots, they will never get to touch her.

Lalonde leans over the taffrail, a luxurious stretch, and then she rests both elbows on it to watch the dark water. It’s raining lightly tonight, and Lalonde’s hair is already becoming darker with it. Raindrops are running down her back. Mindfang follows their trail with a careful claw-tip. She lingers over the curve of Lalonde’s ass. The muscles under her hands still feel odd - not everything about human bone structure is as it should be - but Mindfang will learn everything in time.

Lalonde’s body is easy to steer. She turns around, spreads her long legs. Rainwater slides across her collarbones, over her chest. Mindfang sinks down, seeking a better vantage point. She kisses the soft damp skin of Lalonde’s stomach. Mindfang’s tongue is much, much longer than any human’s, even if it isn’t that interesting pink color. She drags it across the fur surrounding Lalonde’s nook. She hasn’t decided yet what to think about the, but the alien texture is fascinating for now! Then, she slides her tongue inside.

Her hands stay on each of Lalonde’s knees, keeping them apart, just in case. One of the best things about doing this, apart from showing Lalonde how it’s done, is that all of Lalonde’s thoughts compress to a single layer of pleasure. Mindfang uses her lips, uses presses her tongue to the sides. Pushes it deep, then rolls it up, finding the small bulge at the front. Lalonde tastes milder than trolls do, and rainwater is slipping into Mindfang’s mouth as well.

“I’m asking nicely,” Lalonde says, “I am asking _so_ nicely. Can you move faster, please?”

She can let her pet dictate her pace, sometimes. All of her crew members are still below deck.

Lalonde brushes Mindfang’s wet hair away from her forehead. Her her palm rests there, like in a pale ritual of some kind. She has no decency at all, and Mindfang loves it, loves it, loves it.

It never takes long to bring Lalonde to her kind of pleasure, or at least it never feels _too_ long. Her legs relax after her release, and Mindfang pulls away. The rain will wash her face for her. She'll be completely clean by the time they get to the cabin.

“Mistress? Should we go get the bucket for you, or may I just touch you here?”

The image she sends is of Mindfang on her back, in the middle of her deck, covered in cobalt from knee to chest. Some poor fool would have to mop it up.

“No, let’s get inside.” They only left port today! Mindfang will do anything to avoid boredom, even pace her transgressions.

Lalonde agrees immediately to go back to the cabin. As a reward, Mindfang leaves a concupiscent promise in her mind. Then she leaves two sets of alphabets as well - New and Old Alternian.

It is much more draining to be the source - rather than the recipient - of knowledge, and language isn’t something Mindfang thinks of very often. Lalonde only gets a spring in her step from the exchange. Mindfang’s body feels heavy, and she lets Lalonde hold her hand all the way down. Then she lets herself be guided to the bed. Lalonde gets one towel to wrap up her own short hair, and another to try drying Mindfang’s.

“You will thank me very nicely too,” Mindfang says, and she tries to put an edge into her voice, but instead finds herself slurring the words. Ugh! A nap will make it better.

“I will, Mistress. You’re very good to me.”

Lalonde gets a comb - another one of Mindfang’s new acquisitions - and starts combing through Mindfang’s mane.

“Guess I can get you a book next time,” Mindfang mumbles, as Lalonde massages her nape. “Did I ever tell you about the library I set on fire?”

“No, but I hope you will.” Mindfang’s mental powers are drained, but reflexively she does a check. Truth, Lalonde is being truthful again. “And maybe you can get me some knitting supplies? I’m getting bored with embroidering.”

The last image Mindfang sees, before drifting off, is herself covered in a large knitted scarf, in all the colors of royalty.


End file.
